I'll Take it to the Grave
by thecoleaderofgroupb
Summary: Set before Thomas came up in The Box. Winston gets injured while bringing a goat into the Bloodhouse and wakes up in the medical hut. While Clint goes to assess the other Gladers' injuries, Jeff and Winston try to hook up, only to be busted by the other Med-Jack. Cross posted to tumblr.


"Win? Win can you hear me?" Jeff called out as he stood over the Keeper of the Slicers.

Winston's eyes fluttered open and he groaned as he felt a dull pain shoot through his head. Clint put out a hand to stop Winston when he tried to sit up.

"Take it easy shank," Clint said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Shuck goat rammed you pretty hard."

"Oh yeah," Winston groaned as he rubbed the bruise on his forehead. "Stupid goat. Asked Fry to give me a hand but he wouldn't come outta the kitchen. None of the other Slicers wanted to help me with that one."

Clint shook his head and sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, after the goat hit you, it kinda…got loose and started zipping around the Glade trying to ram anyone and anything in its way."

"Where'd it go?"

Jeff and Clint exchanged looks and Winston looked at them before sighing. "Minho is gonna have my shuck butt for this. Shuck it all!"

Jeff shrugged as he adjusted his shoulder strap on his bag. It was always really long, maybe too long for the younger boy. Granted he was fairly tall but the bag always seemed to drag on the ground behind him. "Alby went after it with his bow and arrow."

"So uh, how long am I supposed to stay here?" Winston asked as he stared at them.

Clint put his hands on his hips and told him that Winston needed to stay in the medical hut at least overnight and they'd check him over in the morning. Frypan would bring over dinner.

Winston ran a hand across his face and he mumbled something incoherent. Clint ignored it and excused himself to go check the other Gladers for injuries.

Jeff opened a drawer and removed a piece of cloth. He soaked it in water and wrung it out before placing it on Winston's forehead. Winston closed his eyes as the cloth hit his forehead and he sighed contentedly.

"Was this the one that gave Gally that bruise when it came up in The Box?" Jeff asked as he scanned Winston's body for additional injuries.

"Yup, even then it was bad-tempered," Winston grumbled. "I just hope it didn't destroy the maps."

"I'm sure Alby got it before it got there," Jeff replied. He nudged Winston's leg and told him to move over. Winston pretended to look sour but slid closer to the wall of the hut to make room for Jeff. Jeff removed his bag from his shoulder and placed it on the ground before sitting down on the bed.

"How are you feeling?" Jeff asked. "Goat didn't scramble your brain too much, did it?"

Winston shook his head as he pulled the washcloth off his forehead. Jeff took it from him and placed it on the nightstand. He lay back on the bed next to Winston and shot him a small smile.

"And this time it really was an accident, right?" Jeff teased.

Winston's eyes flew open and he grabbed Jeff's face in his hands. "Yes it was – think I'd wanna tick off that goat any day?"

Jeff laughed and placed a hand on Winston's chest. "Relax shank, I'm just messing with you."

Winston softened his expression and leaned in to kiss Jeff. Jeff wrapped his arms around Winston's neck while Winston put his arms around Jeff's waist. In the confusion of both trying to bring each other closer to one another, hips bumped and Jeff groaned as his lower front crashed hard against Winston's.

Winston paused and pulled back to assess the damage. His eyes traveled lower and he felt his ears burning when he saw the sight. "Damn Jeff," Winston whispered. "So-sor-sorry! Didn't mean–"

Jeff climbed on top of the older boy and began pulling at his shirt. Winston pulled it off and Jeff started fiddling with Winston's belt. He planted wet, sloppy kisses on Winston's neck as he fumbled with the belt.

"Easy there shank, take it easy," Winston said. "Getting a little worked up, yeah?"

"Like you didn't want this to happen," Jeff hissed back as he freed Winston from his pants.

Winston put a hand on Jeff's chest to stop him. "Jeff, look I…I want to but…" He glanced over at the entrance to the medical hut. "Clint might be back anytime soon, ya know?"

Jeff rolled his eyes and and leaned in close. "Clint's usually pretty slow when it comes to getting things done, so I think we got some time."

Winston grinned and he played with the bottom of Jeff's shirt. "Well we can start with this, shank. You got me undressed but you're not."

Jeff returned the smile as he cast off his shirt and threw it on the ground. Winston started undoing Jeff's belt as the younger boy tried to slip Winston out of his pants.

Winston cast aside the belt and tried to remove Jeff's pants, only to see that he still had his shoes on. "Jeff you slinthead!" Winston said as he shook his head. "Can't get these off until you get your shoes off."

Jeff looked down and reddened as he moved off of Winston and hurriedly untied his shoes. Winston propped himself up on an elbow and kissed Jeff's neck. Once Jeff shed his shoes and pants, he pushed Winston back down on the bed and began attacking his mouth feverishly.

"It's. Been. Too. Long," Jeff panted between kisses.

"Well let's make it up then," Winston said as he slid a hand between them. His fingers had brushed against the bulge in Jeff's underpants when they heard someone clearing his throat.

Jeff cursed under his breath and Winston glanced past him to see it was Clint standing in the doorway. Jeff moved off of Winston and gathered up his clothes while Winston attempted to get dressed as well.

"I leave for a couple of minutes," Clint began as he crossed his arms over his chest, "and you shanks decide to shack up. Guess that means that Winston's feeling better, right?"

Winston pulled his shirt over his head and started to open his mouth to protest when Jeff spoke up.

"Clint, look it's my fault," Jeff said as he put his bag on his shoulder. "I was tending to Winston and I got carried away. So go ahead and tell Alby. Throw me in The Pit. Take away dinner – I don't care."

"I'm really, really sorry Clint," Winston mumbled as he hung his head.

Clint scanned both of them and put his hands on his hips. "Guess that means Fry wins the bet."

Both of the boys shot Clint identical confused looks. Clint smirked as he nodded in the direction of the kitchen.

"Fry and I made a bet that if Winston got injured badly enough the next time, you two would try to shack up," Clint explained. "Fry said I would come in right as things were escalating and I said that I hoped I would have dodged a bullet."

"You guys bet on us?" Winston asked as he stared at Clint in disbelief.

Clint nodded and walked toward the pair. "Before you slintheads start freaking out, rest assured the rest of the shanks know nothing about you two. Maybe Alby, Newt, and Fry but the rest of the shanks know nothing."

Winston relaxed his shoulders and Jeff rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'd just recommend that if you two are going to go at each other, keep the noise down and maybe pick a different time to do it."


End file.
